


Security Not Required

by stephrc79



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-24
Updated: 2013-10-24
Packaged: 2017-12-30 08:23:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1016321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stephrc79/pseuds/stephrc79
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bond thinks Q needs additional self-defence training. Q thinks Bond is in over his head.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Security Not Required

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Español available: [Seguridad no requerida](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2384528) by [randomsociopath](https://archiveofourown.org/users/randomsociopath/pseuds/randomsociopath)



> For Salios and her _amazing_ prompt.
> 
> Now translated into [español](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2384528/chapters/5268533?show_comments=true&view_full_work=false#comment_16441910) by the amazing [randomsociopath](http://randomsociopath.tumblr.com) !

The smile that played at the corner of Q’s lips was almost feral. Bond stared at him in utter shock as he worked to reconcile the last several minutes in his head. How had _he_ ended up being the one on his back?

Of course, the suppressed laughter that emanated from around the room did nothing to quell the growing disbelief that he had _just been taken down by his quartermaster._

And it was just what he needed. An audience.

Q’s smile turned gentle as he leaned his body over Bond’s. “James,” he breathed, reaching down with one hand to trail his fingers lovingly along Bond’s jaw. “Next time I tell you your services will not be required” — his eyes went flat as he gripped Bond’s chin — “believe me.”

~~~

It had started out simple enough.

Bond and Q had been shagging for the better part of two months. In that time, Bond’s concern for Q’s safety had grown exponentially. Q needed self-defence training, and it _needed_ to be better than the hack job MI6 made all their executives go through.

Bond pushed into Q’s office without a knock. He never bothered to knock anymore — not that he had before. “We need to talk.”

Q set down his soldering iron and glanced up at Bond, his eyes owlish behind a pair of magnifying eyeglasses. “Can I help you, 007?”

“When your doors are closed, call me —”

“The doors of MI6 far outweigh the doors of my office, Bond,” Q reminded him as he took off the glasses. He set them down next to his current project and turned his attention back to Bond. “Now, what can I do for you?”

“You need self-defence training,” Bond declared, not bothering with pretense.

“No, I don’t,” Q replied simply. He turned back to his project — a circuit board with its various pieces scattered across his desk — and replaced the glasses without another word.

Bond eyed him suspiciously. He hadn’t been expecting a flat rejection. When Q wasn’t at Bond’s flat, he _lived_ at MI6. He spent almost no time dealing with the real world. There was no chance someone like him would survive an attack. As intelligent as Q was, Bond expected him to understand that.

He leaned down, hands flat on Q’s desk, and stared until Q met his eyes. Steadily, Bond said, “Q, please just do this for me. That joke of a class they have for the execs will do nothing more than stop an overzealous mugger. And I _cannot_ go out on another mission until I know that you’re safe back here.”

Q huffed in frustration, setting the glasses back down. “Bond, I assure you, any extra training is completely unnecessary. _I’m fine_.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Bond replied stubbornly. “I want you in the sparring ring at 1800 hours.”

Q sighed. “You’re not going to like the end result.”

~~~

The room was half full with field agents when Bond arrived at ten minutes till. That was what he got for telling Alec. Two words, and apparently everyone wanted to come see exactly what the quartermaster was made of.

Bond walked up to Alec, who was casually leaning against the back wall. “Exactly how many people did you tell about this?” he asked accusingly.

“I would never admit to telling anybody anything,” Alec remarked with a wry smile.

“You’re a fucking wanker, you know that?” Bond whispered threateningly as he crowded into Alec’s space. “The last thing I need is a bunch of pups watching Q potentially crack under the pressure of a physical attack. They need to respect him, Alec.”

Alec stood up straight and glared at Bond. “Did it ever occur to you that if the agents caught a glimpse of how under-trained the execs are, something might change?

Bond pulled up short. After all, that was exactly what he was trying to do for Q. “I see your point,” he conceded. “But if _anyone_ gives him shit after this, _you’re_ going to be the one to kill them. Understood?”

“I’d be happy to,” Alec said, all too cheerfully.

At the sound of a soft click, Bond turned to see Q walk through the sparring room door. He stopped at the sight in front of him and huffed, “Lovely,” before walking up to the ring and silently climbing in.

“You know this could be —” Alec didn’t get the chance to finish before Bond walked away.

He slid between the ropes and went to stand in front of Q, who was glaring viciously at him. Bond gave Q a somewhat apologetic smile and said, “Blame Alec.”

Q narrowed his eyes at Bond. “I blame you for starting this whole thing to begin with.”

“Fair enough,” Bond shrugged. “Shall we get started?”

“Ready whenever you are.”

Bond nodded and stood up straighter. “Since you’ve already been through the MI6 training, why don’t we start there and see how we can improve on it? If I’m not mistaken, they just taught you ‘disarm and run’, correct? We’ll need a weapon for this...” He trailed off and looked around. He’d planned on grabbing one of the training weapons out of the locker set up for the agents’ use, but had forgotten when he'd walked into a madhouse  

A flash of metal caught Bond’s eye, and he turned to see Q pulling a Walther out of his waistband. He held it out casually in his palm for Bond and asked, “Will this work? And before you even ask, _of course_ it’s unloaded.”

Bond smirked and took the gun. He could always count on his Quartermaster to come prepared. “Yes, this will do just fine.” He held the gun up and pointed it steadily at Q’s head. “Now, why don’t you —”

And then he was unarmed, the gun leveled at his own head.

From behind the muzzle, Q smiled impishly at him. “You were saying?”

It took Bond a moment to play back in his head what had just happened. Q had disarmed him. It _wasn't possible_ , but Q had disarmed him. A quick grab, twist, and Bond was staring at his own damned gun.

Bond blinked at him. “How the hell did you do that?”

Infuriatingly, Q simply shrugged and smiled. “Would you like to try and get it back?” he asked in an innocent voice.

Without giving him a warning, Bond stepped into Q. He reached for Q’s wrist to spin him around, yanking Q’s arm behind his back, He grabbed for Q’s nape, but before he could get purchase, Q twisted his pinned arm around inside of Bond’s hold and slid out to the side. Bond lost his position on Q, but held onto his arm.

Bond smiled wickedly at Q; Q’s eyes flashed dangerously in response. He dropped the gun and turned his wrist completely to grip Bond’s forearm. He grabbed hold with his other hand, as well, and twisted, throwing Bond into a perfect rotating flip, and slamming him onto the mat.

Not a second later, Q was straddling Bond, his hands pinned above his head.

~~~

After Q left, Bond still hadn’t done much more than sit up on the mat. He turned to glance at the sound of Alec’s booming laughter as he came into the sparring ring with Bond. “You know, he’s usually a lot kinder when he wants me on my back,” Bond muttered to his friend. “What the fuck was that?”

Alec just laughed harder as he helped Bond to his feet. “Honestly? How do you _not_ know?” Alec smiled at Bond’s confused expression. “Q’s trained in at least three different forms of martial arts, as well as street fighting and advanced self-defence. Has been for years.” He shook his head good naturedly. “I’m disappointed in you, mate. I’m not the one shagging him, and even I know that.”

Bond stared at Alec. “Does everyone else here know?” he asked before he glanced around the room suspiciously.

“Oh, Christ, no.” Alec responded. “Well, a few did. The rest only knew after I told them. It’s why they’re all here. They wanted to see if the skinny little Quartermaster could really kick the infamous 007’s arse.”

The cracking sound of Alec’s jaw when Bond’s fist made contact was _deeply_ satisfying.

It would be even more satisfying if he’d actually broken it. One could always hope.

~~~

Bond strode into Q’s office and dropped down in one of the guest chairs. Q was back to soldering his circuit board. “You could have told me,” Bond started, not waiting for Q to look up. “Q, we’ve been together for a couple months; we’ve known each other a lot longer than that. How am I only learning now that you’re” — he waved a hand at Q, searching for the right words — “some sort of secret ninja warrior?”

Without stopping, Q replied, very matter-of-fact, “It never came up.”

Bond sighed. “And earlier? You couldn’t have told me then?”

“You seemed so _determined_.”

“You made me look like a fool in there.”

Q looked up at Bond in surprise. After a moment, he sighed and placed the soldering iron carefully next to the circuit board. “I didn’t know all those people would be in there,” he said quietly as he removed the magnifying glasses and set them down, as well. He turned to regard Bond. “And you were a bit of an arse when you came barreling in here earlier.”

“I’m only worried —”

Q held up a hand to stop him. “I know, all right? I’m well aware of how that _protective streak_ can get the better of you. You should trust me, though, sometimes.”

“I do trust you,” Bond said truthfully. It was frightening how much he trusted Q. “But you still should have told me.”

Q stood up and walked around his desk. He leaned against the far side in front of Bond. “You’re right. I should have told you quite a while ago. I just never thought about it, to be perfectly honest.” He narrowed his eyes accusingly. “That said, you still deserved the arse-kicking you got earlier.”

“Maybe a little,” Bond conceded with smirk.

Q smiled back affectionately. He leaned over to take Bond’s face in his hands for a gentle, chaste kiss. “Stop being such a paranoid arse,” he breathed as the kiss broke.

“Never,” Bond countered, laughing. He captured Q’s mouth for another kiss.

“It’s fine,” Q huffed around Bond’s lips. “At least you’ve been properly warned that I know how to keep you in line.”

“I’ll remember that if you show me tonight how you disarmed me. At my flat. Preferably while naked.”

Q’s mouth quirked up in a sinful little smile. “With pleasure.”

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to come play with me on tumblr at [stephrc79](http://www.stephrc79.tumblr.com/).
> 
> I promise I don't bite. Well, not unless you ask nicely.


End file.
